Enemies Are Closer Than They Appear
by Mona
Summary: Rated for violence and innuendo. Xanatos' limits are tested when his main economic rival moves to New York.
1. Meet the Reznicheks

"Enemies Are Closer Than They Appear"

Disclaimer: Do not own anything from Gargoyles. Gargoyles (c) Disney. Own my fanfic characters.

David Xanatos was proud of his financial empire. His network of companies spanned the globe and grossed millions weekly. Even his castle in the air proved he was richer than any king. Make that emperor -- with a fortress and a security system to prove it.

Or so he thought.

The businessman stood on the tallest tower of Castle Wyvern one afternoon. A helicopter landed on the tallest skyscraper on Park Avenue. The helicopter was bright red, with RI painted in silver on the side. Reznichek Industries.

Xanatos wasn't particularly worried. Once in a while, a rival corporation would move in on his clientele but they'd inevitably be merged or go broke before too long. What made RI any different? Even if it's owner and CEO, Harrison Reznichek, had been catapulted to second-richest man in his dimension. Harrison was undoubtedly moving from his mansion in Newark to the Park Avenue penthouse. The skyscraper itself was parallel to the Eyrie. The penthouse was certain to be large and opulent, but nothing compared to Castle Wyvern.

Fox joined him. "Look what came in the mail." She held up an engraved invitation. "The Brentwood's baby was born. A girl."

"Interesting," conceded her husband. "I bet Alex would like to meet his new playmate."

Fox motioned toward the skyscraper. "Thinking of sending them a housewarming gift?"

Xanatos turned and gave his characteristic smirk. "Tempting, but no. Let the challenger take the first shot."

"Ever met him?"

"At Christie's. I outbid him on a Bentley Continental GT. He's apparently a car collector."

"What do you want to bet that the Brentwoods invited the Reznicheks to their soiree?"

"Gambling is for those without skill, Fox."

XXX

Harrison Reznichek exited the helicopter and tipped the pilot. He was a lithe, high-spirited man. His face was clean-shaven and his brown eyes were inquisitive but at the same time had a steely gleam. He wore a tailored black suit and a Rolex watch. The tycoon helped his wife, Susan, out of her seat.

Susan was tall, with pale skin and large blue eyes. Were it not for the blinking of the turquoise eyes, one might have mistaken her for a statue. Her features were elegantly proportioned, even beautiful. She was unsmiling, yet not frowning. Taciturn, Susan spoke rarely -- only when she deemed necessary. Small talk was a waste of valuable time.

Collin, their second child, tumbled out. The backpack thudded against his back. "I can't wait to see the place!" He was ten years old and had inherited his dad's eyes but his mother's skin tone and jet-black hair.

"How can you be so awake?" yawned Eleanor, better known as Ellie. The children had been awakened early in their Four Seasons hotel room and spent the first day of their new schools. Ellie was sixteen, yet she hadn't lost her baby fat. Her eyes were like her mother's, and her complexion was unmarred by scars or acne. The girl's cheeks were naturally rosy. She was still in the clothes she had worn to school: a white blouse with puffy sleeves and a high collar, black pleated skirt, white stockings, and black loafers.

The four-member family entered their penthouse.

Collin eagerly threw open the door to his room. All his old furniture and toys were neatly arranged. His clothes hung neatly in the closet. "I love this room!"

Ellie crossed the living room and opened the door to her new bedroom. "Ha. Mine's bigger."

The younger brother stuck out his tongue.

"So how was your first day of school?" Susan asked.

"I hated it," Ellie snapped. "The girls all wore clothes that showed their cleavage. How indecent. And they all have their cliques. The boys were even worse. One of them tried to look under my skirt."

Harrison's eyes flashed dangerously. Quick as lightning, he whipped out his cell phone. "Do you know the scoundrel's name?"

"Jimmy Rasmussen. I asked my English teacher."

"I love my new school," declared Collin. He pointed to the T-shirt and jeans he wore. "No uniforms."

"Eleanor," Susan chided. "Your old school was co-ed."

She snorted. "Yes, but everyone wore uniforms. The girls looked proper and the boys didn't act like animals."

"Is it any surprise?" Collin asked. "With that outfit?"

"I'll have you know these blouses were all the rage in 1910s England. I have my dressmaker replicate them from…" retorted Ellie.

Her brother interrupted. "You look like an anachronism."

Harrison snapped his phone shut. "I got the creep a three-day suspension. If he ever bothers you again, just tell me, and I'll have him expelled."

Ellie kissed him. "Thanks, Daddy."

Susan held out an invitation. "Looks like we've already made the invite list for the parties."

"Awww, those parties are always so boring," Collin whined.

XXX

At the twenty-third precinct, a uniformed officer placed a glass blotter on his desk, covering a collage of photographs and newspaper clippings. He reached into a box and continued to unpack. Besides the usual office supplies, there were two models: one of a Brontosaurus skeleton and the other of the _Spirit of St. Louis_.

Matt Bluestone passed by, sipping a cup of coffee. He had arrived early and was waiting for his partner. "You're the new guy, aren't you?"

The officer looked up. He had wavy dark brown hair and round wire-rimmed glasses. "Sergeant Michael Rawlins."

He extended his hand.

"Detective Matt Bluestone."

"Your servant, sir."

"Your name sounds familiar. Where are you from?"

"Oh, I got transferred from 27th. Sergeant Camacho retired, so this precinct needed someone to fill the void."

Captain Maria Chavez poked her head outside her office door. "Rawlins, may I speak with you a moment?"

Rawlins immediately headed down the corridor to the Captain's office.

Elisa joined Matt. "New guy?" She glanced at the desk. "A grown man, yet very much a little boy." An eyebrow shot up. Most of the articles were about the gargoyles -- particularly the ones that showed the gargoyles in a positive light: saving the train, extinguishing a fire when the NYFD was stuck in traffic, etc. "Sergeant Michael Rawlins? Isn't he known as the Twenty-seventh's biggest suck-up?"

"Fraid so." Matt looked at the desk, reading one article. "That's why his name was familiar. I read his guest editorial in the New York Times."

Elisa glanced at the clipping. "I knew the name, but I didn't realize it was this Rawlins." She read out loud. "John Castaway is nothing more than an incendiary demagogue who is feeding on your own fears and insecurities to suit his own agenda. He is an enemy of sustained thought and reason. Look to history if you don't believe me: the Salem witch-hunts come to mind. Or read Orwell's 1984. If any Quarrymen are reading this, heed my advice and look at yourselves! Hiding behind a mask, and using terrorist tactics to scare people. The Quarrymen who attacked the People For Interspecies Tolerance violated the PIT crew's constitutional right to assemble in public. We also have no evidence that anyone has had a deadly encounter with gargoyles. It is doubtful they possess the technology to build bombs or carry firearms. Humans since the dawn of time have taken a lot out of Mother Earth, and caused the extinction of countless species. I need only cite the Dodo, the Passenger Pigeon, or the undiscovered species in the dwindling Amazon rainforest. It's such a waste of a planet. Don't we owe it to our earth to maintain some of the symbiotic relationships we have with the creatures on this planet -- including gargoyles?"

"And he attacked Doyle," added Matt, pointing to a specific passage. "It says 'I have the suspicion that Doyle would have used some other minority if gargoyles were unavailable to be his scapegoat.' Wonder what he had to say about that."

"Or Castaway."

"Or his sheep."

Chavez's door opened. Rawlins stepped out. "No thank you. I've been here less than an hour and you're already the best captain I've served. And the most beautiful…"

"Cut the flattery, brown-noser," retorted the captain.

XXX

The sun had set. David and Fox were preparing to go.

"Are we taking the limo?" Fox inquired.

"No. We're taking the Bentley Continental. It'll really rub it in to my competitor."

Lexington came in. "I'm on watch."

David picked up Alex. "You're off duty tonight. We're taking him to the party. He's got to defend his title as the cutest baby in New York."

The green gargoyle kissed the infant on the forehead. "I'm sure his title's safe."

XXX

At the party, Mr. Aaron Brentwood tapped his glass. "I'd like to thank everyone for coming. As you know, Teresa and I have been blessed with a girl by the noble stork. Everyone, I present Julia Marie Brentwood."

"Aww," chorused most of the guests.

"In addition," continued the host. "We would like to welcome Harrison Reznichek to our fair city. Now let's sit down to dinner. Chef Maurice has prepared a lovely meal."

The guests arranged themselves around the oak table. David sat near one end, with Fox to his right and Baby Alex occupying a high chair next to his mother. Collin sat on Alex's other side, with Ellie on the other side of Collin. Susan sat across from Ellie. Harrison occupied a chair near the opposite end. The meal began peacefully.

Collin finished his dessert and burped.

Ellie blushed. "Mom!"

"Collin!" scolded Susan.

"It was an accident," protested the boy. "I drank my soda too fast."

"You did it on purpose!" accused his sister.

"No. If I did it on purpose, it'd sound like this." Collin released a loud belch.

Baby Julia began to cry. Baby Alex giggled.

Mrs. Brentwood snatched her crying daughter. "Mrs. Reznichek, is this your idea of appropriate table manners?"

"He's just agitated from the move," Susan explained.

Collin shrugged and began to tickle Baby Alex, who giggled and wiggled his limbs.

"Stop playing with Xanatos' son," Susan hissed.

"Why? He seems to like me and I'm bored."

"He likes you now, but he'll grow up to be just like his father and inherit a hatred of this family. I don't want you to lose a friend."

Aaron interrupted them. "Who's up for a little Monopoly?"

"Monopoly is a game, Brentwood," called Xanatos. "I want to control the entire world."

Everyone laughed, save for the Reznicheks. A few of the adults, including Fox and Susan, sat down to play Monopoly. The other adults chatted idly about business and politics. Collin continued to play with Baby Alex.

Ellie stood by the window. She had changed into a velvet Victorian-style dress. Her light brown hair was pinned up in an upsweep.

"You have a lovely daughter," David whispered to Harrison. "She looks angelic. Can she possibly be yours, or did you dye her hair so she'd look the part?"

"Big words from someone convicted of receiving stolen property and corporate espionage."

"Do you want to be the pot or the kettle, Harrison?"

Harrison's cell phone rang. "Excuse me."

Owen approached David and Fox. "Alexander is getting restless."

"Drive him home," Xanatos ordered.

"Are you sure that's prudent?" Owen held up his stone fist.

"If anyone can drive with one hand, it's you. Fox and I want to stay a little longer. We can walk home. It isn't far."

"I pity any muggers you might run into," Owen replied dryly. He took the infant downstairs, placed him in the car seat in back of the Bentley. The majordomo got into the driver's seat and started the elegant silver sports car. The Brentwood estate was on a street that bordered the East River. The car moved a few yards when a car appeared in the rearview mirror. The butler was too absorbed in driving with one hand to notice.

The slam came without warning. Owen was thrown forward, striking his head on the steering wheel. He immediately lost consciousness.

Alex whimpered as the car slammed into the guardrail. Luckily, the baby was on the left side and unhurt. Beneath, the waters raged. The car would soon plunge over the edge and submerge.

The infant somehow sensed the danger he was in. Uncle Puck couldn't help. And teleportation hadn't been covered yet. _Lex! Help me!_ He cried mentally as tears streamed down his face.

The vehicle wobbled precariously…and fell…

TBC


	2. Suspicious Minds

Across the city, Lexington had joined Goliath on patrol. Suddenly, he felt something…wrong. Yet there was no voice or anything visible. Just a sinking feeling. Then as if someone was whispering _Lex! Where are you?! _"Alex! He's in trouble!" He glided toward the East River, where the distress signal seemed to be coming from.

Alex's "voice" seemed to get louder. The green gargoyle sped along the air currents until he spotted the car.

The silver Bentley had turned on its right side and was rapidly sinking.

Goliath grabbed the back left door and yanked the door off.

Lexington reached in and undid the straps of the car seat. He picked up the crying baby. "There, there. You're safe now."

Alex immediately stopped crying.

"Take him home," ordered Goliath. "I'll get Owen."

XXXX

An hour later, Xanatos had learned what happened. He sat in his office chair, staring out into the night. "I just got off the phone with the police. They're sending someone to investigate."

"Any possibility it could have been an accident?" Goliath asked.

"Whoever did it leaves the scene on the one night I'm not using my armored limousine? Right when Harrison Reznichek arrives in this city? I don't believe in coincidences."

"Xanatos, don't do something stupid."

"Relax. Revenge is not my style. And I wouldn't want to hastily accuse Harrison. Which is where you come in?"

"What are you getting at?"

"I want you to spy on ol' Harrison for a few nights. If you see any sign you did this, report it to me."

"We're not your surveillance service."

"I'd send a human spy, but Reznichek probably has one of the best security systems in the country. There's too much interference to bug him. Besides, your job is to protect people. If he did this to a defenseless baby, imagine all the innocent people he could hurt next?"

"How can you be so sure he did?"

"I can't guarantee he did it, otherwise he'd be in police custody right now. But he was at the party, so he knew when Owen left with Alex. He's the only one who knows I own the only Bentley Continental GT in New York."

"But you have so many other enemies," Goliath protested. "They could have done research."

"Which is why watching Harrison will also clear him if he didn't. Don't you agree?"

Goliath conceded. "Yet if we find nothing to suggest he's responsible for the attack, we'll stop."

"Fair enough," answered the businessman.

XXX

Sergeant Rawlins arrived at the crime scene, eager to begin. He studied the tire treads that led to the smashed through guardrail. _Something had to hit that car with sufficient momentum to bend that baby. Either a big vehicle or a fast one – or both. _He moved on to the recovered Bentley, noting the two left doors were missing. The large dent in the back was the point of impact, obviously. Shining a flashlight, the officer noticed white paint spots on the silver. Paint transfer. Most likely, this was no accident.

XXX

The Reznicheks had also gone home.

Harrison had already tucked his son into bed and was now in Ellie's room.

"Daddy, I had a nightmare last night," the teenager whispered from beneath her covers.

"What happened?"

"I was in public wearing nothing but a string bikini."

"Granted, I don't want to see you in anything that brief, but it's not a crime to bare more than a few inches of skin. How about shorts and a T-shirt? Anything else bothering you?"

"Just that school."

"Tell you what, dearie. If it doesn't get better in two weeks, I'll pull you out." He kissed her on the forehead. "I wouldn't force you into something that makes you unhappy. Sweet dreams." He left to go to his home office.

"Aww," sighed Broadway from his vantage point by the window. He hadn't heard the conversation owing to the thick walls, but had witnessed the kiss. "Caring dad."

"Looks like it," Hudson agreed. "Do you think he'd be heartless enough to hurt Alexander? And doesn't being at the party in plain view give him an alibi?"

"He could have gotten an underling to do it."

XXX

"I don't understand it," Lexington said. "It was as if I could hear him."

Owen held an ice pack to the contusion on his forehead with his flesh hand. Though the fay inside was immortal, the human form came with all the trappings. Including bruises. "No doubt a vestige of when Alexander possessed you."

"Then why didn't I hear him when Alex was kidnapped by Doyle?"

"He didn't have much experience with telepathy then, and even now his telepathic skills are rudimentary at best. The intense stress he felt must have triggered what you felt."

XXX

At the police station, Rawlins read the trace report. "Paint chip matches GM's Snow White and used extensively in the past three years on several vehicles. Nothing conclusive. My first case looks like a dead ender!"

XXX

Meanwhile, a shadowy figured parked a dented white car in a deserted parking lot and exited the vehicle. He pulled out a cell phone. "Hello, Boss? I ditched the car. When do I get my money?"

"I'll deposit the fifty thousand dollars in your bank account in a few days to avert suspicion. I have a new job for you," came a digitally altered voice. "Come by the penthouse at exactly 7:30 AM tomorrow. And look presentable."

"Roger that, boss," replied the thug. "Trump out."

Click.

TBC


	3. Scheme Proposed

The suspicious thug, with combed hair and a business suit, entered the elevator after being buzzed in by the day watchman. He checked his watch, making sure he was on time. The elevator stopped at several floors, with people getting on and off. The office workers paid him no mind – the disguise made them assume he was simply another person to do business with the boss. Trump was the only one to ride to the top floor. The elevator doors opened to reveal a short hallway with two heavy walnut doors at the end. One door opened.

Mrs. Susan Reznichek greeted him. "Let's go into the foyer and discuss the job."

Trump followed, but open-mouthed.

"I'd ask to meet in my office, but I don't have one," Susan continued. "We're alone. My children just left for school, my husband is inspecting some new factories, and the servants won't be here until nine."

"I just expected someone…"

"Different?" she finished.

"So what's the new job? Why'd you ask me to crash a stolen car into an expensive Bentley anyway?"

"David Xanatos owns that Bentley. You did your job well."

"But he wasn't even in it. Just his majordomo and his little brat."

"Which is fine. I wasn't planning to kill Xanatos with that maneuver. Just shake that ice-cold composure of his."

"So what's the new plan?"

"You will have to get blood on your hands."

"Who do you want me to bump off?"

"In three days, the security system here will go off-line for upgrades, save for the surveillance cameras. My husband will be out all night inspecting some land he bought outside Purchaseville. I myself have a doctor's appointment. My two children will be alone in the penthouse. You're to kidnap my daughter, Eleanor, and take her to the Eyrie Building. You'll kill her and proceed to plant evidence pointing to David Xanatos making sure to make the crime scene gruesome enough to make even the most seasoned cop ill." She held out a silver platter on which a pen rested on an open checkbook. "You can write your own check."

Trump stared. "Name my price? Why kill your own kid? Why not kill his?"

"You see, my husband loves my daughter. You know the bond between a parent and a child is the most sacred of all. When my husband finds his nemesis 'killed' his firstborn child, he'll be outraged. The media will be all over the story, so Xanatos Enterprises employees will quit in disgust, not to mention they'll lose customers. My husband will finally have the opportunity and the drive to crush his rival's financial empire."

"But your own offspring! Don't you care about her?"

"Yes, I'll miss Eleanor? But when I'm sunning myself on my own private island in the Caribbean, I'll thank her for it. She's no use to me alive anymore."

The thug's face was white. "I'm no saint, but that's just sickening."

Susan stood up. "You have a moral objection to your assignment?"

"As a matter of fact, yes!"

"Very well. You're fired."

Trump backed off the rug and stood on the hardwood floor. "Excuse me?"

"I won't make you do anything you're morally opposed to," replied Mrs. Reznichek as she crossed to the fireplace. "But I can't have you informing the police."

"I wouldn't! Not with my criminal record!" Trump was cut off by his former employer pressing a button under the mantle. A trapdoor opened, causing the man to fall down an incline to the empty floor below. Empty, save for the incinerator. The henchman attempted to scream, but death came too suddenly.

Susan closed the trapdoor. "That's where garbage like you belongs." She sighed. "Good help is so hard to find these days."

XXX

(Two nights later)

Lexington joined Brooklyn at the RI building's window. "See anything?"

"Not much." Brooklyn peeked through a crack in the curtains. Harrison and Ellie were playing chess. "I'm starting to think he didn't do it. None of us have seen anything remotely suspicious."

"But who else?"

"I have no idea. Broadway had some theories, but some of them are ridiculous."

The green gargoyle was peeking through the windows. "The girl's kind of cute, isn't she? I saw her reading _Oliver Twist. _I liked that book."

"You think she's cute?"

"She seems sweet, from the few glances I've gotten of her."

Brooklyn rolled his eyes. "Just a crush. You'll get over it."

"Did you get over Angela? Or Maggie May?"

"Shut up!" was the reply. "And don't you dare let Malevola hear you say that!"

The window had been open a crack, allowing the two gargoyles to hear Harrison say "Checkmate."

"You could beat Kramnik," came Ellie's voice.

"She let him win," observed Brooklyn. "Most of her pieces were captured and none of Dad's were."

"Yeah, and two nights ago I saw her beat the computer," Lexington added. He glanced at the clock. "Our shift is over and I have to get Alex. We'll be late for the game."

"Taking a baby to a baseball game?" Brooklyn snorted. "Next thing, you'll be buying him a cap and foam hand!"

(Twenty minutes later)

Lexington set down the bassinet. The seats were somewhat distant from the game, but secluded. "What did Uncle Brook mean by the next thing?" He set a miniature baseball cap on Alex's head.

The infant cooed and waved his foam hand in the air.

"Yes, I'm glad the Mets are playing too, Alex."

XXX

The next morning, Susan had managed to find four more 'hired help.' "Gentlemen, we don't have much time. Listen carefully. If you do this job correctly, you will each receive one million. In cash. Tonight, our security system will be offline for maintenance. The cameras, however, will stay on. It'll look too suspicious if you break all the cameras, but that's what masks are for, right?"

"Right," chorused the four henchmen.

"You're to kidnap my daughter tonight. To get out of the building, either use the fire escape from her balcony, or the elevator. If you do use the elevator, slip out between 8:00 and 8:15. Our night guardsman is like clockwork when he takes his coffee and bathroom break." Susan put down two cards. "A few of our employees used to work for Xanatos Enterprises and I got their passcards. They've been deactivated, but I did some creative hacking and re-activated them. I also found these blueprints to the building itself." She pointed. "Ride their service elevator to the top floor. The dungeon of his restored castle doesn't have an elevator stop, but the original roof-access stairs lead right inside. It's pretty much a storage area now. Disguised as employees, you're to go inside the castle itself and see if you can find a recently worn set of Xanatos' clothing. Also see if you can find trace evidence, like hairs. Then once you've collected enough false clues, kill Eleanor."

"So you're setting up the Big Cheese to take the fall?" asked a short, thin thug whose name was Percy.

"So despicable, but I love it," chimed Bartholomew – Bart for short.

The third, Mitch, stayed silent.

"Though," Susan continued. "You can't wear his clothes. Your epithelials – skin cells – might be extracted and that'll prove someone else was wearing the suit. The blood will have to splatter on the clothes realistically."

"Rest assured, boss lady," the fourth, Caliban, interjected. His most distinctive feature was a three-inch linear scar down his left cheek. "I've been a butcher for the past five years. I know blood splatter patterns backwards and forwards."

"Excellent," replied Susan. "I do have a few rules about the method of execution. No guns. I used to be a crime scene investigator – specializing in ballistics. We can match striations from bullet to gun on almost any firearm imaginable. Also, nothing involving fire. That castle may be made of stone, but we'll assume there are smoke detectors."

"Boy, you must really hate him if you want to frame him for your child's murder," Mitch finally spoke. "Why? It must go beyond him being your husband's chief competitor."

"It does," she answered. "Simply put, my father had a small furniture store. Hand-painted, hand-crafted furniture. Except eight years ago, one of that slimeball's auxiliary companies began to sell mass-produced but less expensive products in our obscure little New Jersey town. The business that put me through college – my daddy's pride and joy – went under. My father never recovered and died soon after."

"But couldn't you simply hire a sniper?" Mitch suggested. "I mean, won't Mrs. Xanatos take over the company while the hubby's in jail?"

"I want Xanatos to suffer," Susan retorted. "The media will pick up on this and depict him as a heartless monster. In retrospect, I wanted Eleanor to be Miss America instead of America's Post-Mortem Sweetheart, but it's time her innocent charm was put to good use. My husband will be motivated enough to finally rise to the top where he belongs."

"Couldn't we just kill your daughter, your husband, and Xanatos himself, then pin it on Mrs. Xanatos?" suggested Bart. "You'd inherit all your hubby's money and Xanatos' wife won't be able to inherit the company on death row."

This was greeted by Susan's rueful laughter. "The wife-bumps-off-husband-to-collect-fortune-routine is old and cliché,"

"But she'd be taking the fall, not you," protested Bart. "It's genius."

"It's idiotic!" Mrs. Reznichek countered. "What motive would Fox Xanatos have for killing her husband?"

"How about we make it look like she caught her husband and your daughter together and killed them both in a jealous rage? Then we make your husband's death look like an accident?" Percy burst out.

Susan shook her head. "Several things wrong with that insight. First off, I won't have my daughter's name dragged through the mud like that. Second, Xanatos loves his wife. I saw the way they looked at each other at the party. And even if he was unfaithful, he wouldn't be stupid enough to cheat on her with a minor."

"My thoughts exactly," Caliban chipped in coolly.

"And I doubt Xanatos would be stupid enough to kill Eleanor on his property," Mitch argued.

"Trust me. The police will assume the sealed off dungeon was meant to conceal the remains until he could properly dispose of them. He is a busy man. The police can't investigate a missing person's report until that person has been missing for twenty-four hours – particularly teenagers. Tomorrow, the police will receive an 'anonymous tip' but it'll be too late. Even if you do leave evidence of yourselves, any investigators will assume it was an accomplice. And you'll be halfway across the world before that thought even chases its way through their heads. I'll leave the door open tonight, but make it look like you broke in. I want two to approach the front and the other two to enter via the glass door from the balcony. One last thing. If any of you so much as thinks of hurting my son, I'll make you regret it. Any questions?" Nothing. "You're dismissed."

(After sunset)

"Dispatch duty?" asked Officer Morgan.

Captain Chavez rubbed her temples wearily. "Almost everyone is in SoHo with that gas explosion. You and I have to hold the fort here. Rawlins!"

"Yes, Captain?"

"One of the day-shifters caught two teenagers joy-riding in a car that looks like it crawled from an accident. A white 1995 Buick. See if it's the vehicle from your hit and run."

Morgan sighed and headed to the switchboard.

XXX

At the castle, Hudson flipped through the TV channels. Nothing interesting. He pressed the off button on the remote. Goliath and the rest of the clan had gone to help at the recent gas explosion, leaving the elderly gargoyle and Bronx behind to guard the castle.

XXX

Mitch parked the thug's stolen green car in the parking lot below the Reznichek Industries office building. "She's a psychopath."

"Yeah, but she pays well, so shut up," snapped Percy.

"The money's just an added bonus," Caliban commented.

"Butcher, huh, Cal?" asked Bart. "I would have pegged you as a pro hitman or hired torturer in one of those third-world military dictatorships."

"Nah, an assassin hits its mark and disappears," Caliban replied as the foursome slipped through the shadows and through the back entrance of the building. They wore identical black outfits and full-face ski masks. "I like to prolong the death. The second one's intriguing, but my passport's expired." They climbed into the elevator, Caliban and Percy riding to the third-highest floor: an empty facility leading to the fire escape stairs…which led to the balcony. Mitch and Bart rode to the top.

Inside the penthouse, Collin yawned. "I was going to watch _Scarface _tonight, but I'm going to bed."

Ellie, in pink pajamas, shrugged. "You're not even allowed to watch R-rated movies."

"It's better than your idea of a good movie, and what the 'rents don't know won't hurt them." Collin yawned again. "I can barely keep my eyes open."

"7:50," Ellie read from the grandfather clock. "First time you ever want to go to bed before your bedtime." She got up and went to her room and pushed aside the stuffed animals that were on her plush recliner. "I'm almost done with _Oliver Twist_, but maybe I'll read something light." She went to her bookshelf and picked up _Murder on the Orient Express_.

The glass door from the balcony shattered.

Caliban stood in the empty frame, shards of glass glittering at his feet. "Hello, little princess. We're going for a little ride."

Before the girl could react, the bedroom door itself burst open, courtesy of Mitch and Bart. Ellie snatched a hardcover from her shelf and threw it at Caliban.

Bart pulled out a chloroform-laced rag and brought it toward the teenager's nose and mouth. "Struggle all you want –oof!" Ellie kicked him in the shins as hard as she could muster and reached for the cell phone on her nightstand. Mitch tripped over Percy.

Numbly, Ellie's fingers dialed 9-1-1. "Police, please." She faced the four assailants, walking backward. "Break-in and attempted…" She hadn't seen the small Percy crawl to her blind spot and stab her in the shoulder with a sedative dart. "Attempted kidnapp…" she sank to the floor, unconscious, the phone tumbling from her hand.

Caliban crushed the cell phone underfoot. "Make that a successful kidnapping."

TBC


	4. Keep carrying that anger

Ellie awoke with a groan. It took a minute for her vision to clear. She glanced around, observing she was in a car, flanked by Percy and Caliban, and the car was in motion. The windows were tinted too dark to see out. Her hands and feet were free, but the girl found that she couldn't move regardless.

"Don't even waste the energy," Percy said. "That tranquilizer dart I hit you with temporarily paralyzes your limbs."

"How much are you demanding from Daddy? A billion?" The teenager snorted. " You'd get more if you had stolen his TV remote."

"Nah, little princess. This is not for ransom." Caliban's voice went syrupy. "Let's just say we are doing a job for ol' Mr. Xanatos himself... a job that involves your kidnapping and demise."

"You mean you're working for Xanatos?"

Percy replied this time, lying. "You'd better believe it, sweet-cheeks. Xanatos is not the sort of person who accepts failure from his lackies; especially when he's paying those lackies a million each."

Ellie wasn't convinced. "Why on earth would Xanatos risk a murder charge?"

"Figure it out, little princess," retorted Caliban. Xanatos hates your old man; even enough to make him suffer by having his eldest daughter kidnapped and killed. It's just that obvious."

Bart, in the passenger seat, added to the lie. "We had help, of course."

"What do you mean?" asked Ellie.

Caliban tried to make his tone as convincing as possible. "Why that security guard of yours. He's been secretly on Xanatos's payroll for weeks. How do you think we got by your security so easily?"

"No. George has been a loyal guardsman for fifteen years! He used to bring me candy when I was a little girl!"

" It's amazing how quickly a million bucks discreetly added up front to somebody's bank account will change that somebody's loyalty. " Percy said with a smirk.

"No. George isn't like that. You're lying to me!"

"Are we?" asked Bart. "If we weren't going to kill you, I'd say you could check his bank account yourself."

Ellie took a deep breath. "Xanatos doesn't seem to be the type to just kill a rival's kid. Please...let me go. My father will reward you more for sparing me than your boss will reward you for my death."

Caliban snorted. "Please. We already told you, Xanatos has a 'zero tolerance' policy when it comes to failure. Your father's money wouldn't do us much good in the great beyond. Besides, I'll enjoy the job. Pity I'd have to mar this porcelain skin with cuts and bruises."

The car pulled into the parking garage at the base of the Eyrie, parking into a dark recess. Percy opened the door and pulled Ellie out.

Bart pulled out some rope. "Now just sit still and take your medicine."

"I really am sorry about this, kiddo," Mitch said with a sigh.

Bart elbowed him. "Let's just get to the tying and you shut up, sissy."

_A chain's only as strong as its weakest link_, thought Ellie. _Maybe he'll let me go if his conscience gets the better of him. _"Leave him alone." The paralyzing effect of the tranquilizer was ebbing. The teenage girl writhed against Percy and Caliban.

"Come on, guys," Mitch pleaded. "Would it be too much to ask to let her go? We could lie."

Bart turned and punched Mitch in the jaw. "Maybe that will shut you up. The last thing we need is you going soft on us. As for the boss finding out if we faked the brat's death, of course Mr. X. would find out. He knows everything. Probably has spies watching us as we speak."

"But…" protested Mitch.

Bart punched Mitch in the stomach hard enough for him to double over. "No 'buts.' Keep in mind that it would be three against one and each of us is a better fighter than you are anyway."

Mitch gave a defeated sigh. "It's still wrong."

"And it would be right to let ourselves get killed by Xanatos for failure to comply with his orders?" Percy inquired as he and Caliban finished binding Ellie's wrists and ankles.

Ellie strained against the ropes. _Ok, fighting them off didn't work. Trying to run away didn't work. I can't writhe free of these ropes. Guess I'll have to try the dreaded Plan Gamma_. She curled her mouth into a pout, opened her eyes wide, and began to sob.

"Knock it off, brat!" screeched Percy. "It isn't working."

"I can't stand this!" Mitch shrilled. "This poor kid did nothing to deserve this fate."

Percy drew a knife. "Hey, better her than us!"

Bart pulled out a handkerchief and used it to blindfold Ellie, then used another cloth as a gag.

Caliban calmly slung the teenager over his shoulder. "If you're so eager to play hero, Mitch, there's room for two under my butcher knife."

Mitch folded his arms. "I'm shutting up."

XXX

Harrison whistled as the elevator came to the penthouse. The doors opened. To his horror, the heavy doors were nearly off their hinges. One of the more obvious security cameras was on the floor. A tape lay beside it, film yanked out. He ran into Collin's bedroom and threw open the door, expecting it to be empty.

Relief washed over him. Collin was asleep in his bed. Harrison reached out and stroked his son's forehead, to make sure it wasn't a hallucination. He ran to his daughter's bedroom. The cherry-wood door was ajar, the cell phone was smashed on the floor, and the shards from the broken window glittering on the carpet. Harrison also observed a faint smell coming from a rag. He turned and ran to his home office, snatched the phone, and dialed.

Morgan hit the button on the switchboard. "NYPD."

"You've got to help me," pleaded the man. "This is Harrison Reznichek, of Reznichek Industries. My sixteen year old daughter's been kidnapped."

"Is this crime in progress?"

"If it were, don't you think I'd save her!"

"When did this happen?"

"Anywhere from five minutes to two hours ago."

"Unless there's a crime in progress, Mr. Reznichek, we can only investigate missing-person cases when the person's been missing for over twenty four hours. Teenagers come and go."

"What? I can't afford to waste time!"

"Standard procedure, sir. We can't go searching for every teenager…"

"She was taken against her will!"

"Were there clear signs of a struggle?"

Harrison was now shouting. "The glass door in my daughter's room is broken, at least one security camera was destroyed, and the front doors are barely on their hinges."

"Mr. Reznichek, take a deep breath. What happened?"

"I came home from surveying some land I bought. When I got back, the door was ajar. I went to check on my two kids because my wife's at a doctor's appointment."

"Where's the other child?"

" Still in bed."

"He slept through an alleged kidnapping?"

" ALLEGED!" The multi-billionaire screamed. " ALLEGED! THERE'S A RAG SMELLING FAINTLY OF CHLOROFORM THAT WAS IN MY DAUGHTER'S ROOM! HOW DARE YOU TELL ME IT'S ALLEGED!"

"It seems odd that your son could sleep through all that."

"He's just an extremely heavy sleeper. Now send someone to investigate, or you'll be writing speeding tickets on the Autobahn!"

Morgan turned to his boss. "Harrison Reznichek has just reported his daughter missing. Should we break the twenty-four hour rule?"

Chavez glared. "Morgan, what a question!"

The police officer turned back to the board. "Two of our finest detectives will be over shortly."

XXX

Harrison hung up the phone and dialed another number. He waited until the secretary picked up. "I'd like to speak with David Xanatos." He waited while the secretary patched him through.

"Xanatos," came the voice of Reznichek's hated rival.

"You rat! How dare you snatch Ellie!"

"Ellie who?" David asked.

"Eleanor, my daughter. She's missing, and I know you're behind it!"

Xanatos' interest was piqued. "Moi? You're blaming me because you can't keep track of your teenage offspring?"

"You took her! Only you have the resources to bust through my security system and the nerve!"

"How do I know she didn't stage a kidnapping to run away after realizing what a complete idiot you are? Oh, and everything on my private business line is kept for records. I could sue you for slander, and I have actual evidence."

There was a click as Harrison hung up.

Xanatos leaned back in his plush chair. "That's an unexpected turn of events."

Brooklyn poked his head into the office. "Got a minute?"

"I have nothing pressing," Xanatos replied. "Though I thought the clan went to help out at the explosion."

"Everything's under control, so I thought I'd come back and see if Bronx needed any exercise."

"Tell Goliath that you can stop watching Reznichek. I'd say he's gotten his comeuppance."

"You bought him out?"

"No. His daughter's missing, possibly abducted. Good thing you were at the gas explosions, otherwise you might have seen something."

This got Brooklyn's attention. "Interesting she should go missing the night we're not there. And you knew where we'd be tonight."

Xanatos' voice remained calm and level. "If you're going to accuse me of something that monumental, say it to my face."

"If you didn't do it, why are you so happy?"

The businessman shrugged. "Just because I didn't do it means I can't be happy about it. Harrison's probably more unethical than I am. I'd say he had it coming."

"Does anyone deserve _that_, Xanatos? Not even you. Why do you think we saved Alex?"

"Even before I became a parent, I wouldn't have done something as cliché and petty as kidnapping a rival's child."

"So, how'd you find out about it?" Brooklyn inquired. "The news?"

"Her father called me and flat-out accused me. Now I have to change my private business line's number."

"Reznichek doesn't trust you either?"

"It's in his best interest to believe I did it. For all we know, he's in denial because 'Eleanor dear' ran away. You believe me." There was a pause. "Don't you, Brooklyn?"

"I don't know. You've used psychological warfare before."

"Ancient history. You know I wouldn't do something the clan objected to. And you'd certainly object to outright kidnapping."

"But you seemed convinced that Reznichek attacked Owen and Alex. You used us to spy on him."

"I didn't make you do it. Goliath consented. As for Reznichek, I just believe in keeping friends close and enemies closer."

"I know you've bailed us out several times, but how do we know you're sincere and not just using us?"

"Seems this isn't about Reznichek and his brat at all. This is about letting go."

"You've done a lot of bad things in your life."

"Which I don't deny. But why resent me for it if I'm not your enemy anymore? Seems like it's taking more energy than it's worth."

"I-I don't know. Maybe I'm just not in the forgiving vein."

"Or you're just being an angst-filled teenager."

"If you have a problem with my personality, take it up with Goliath!" Brooklyn turned and left, slamming the mahogany door behind him.

XXX

At the same time, the thugs had reached the Eyrie's top floor. They ascended the roof access stairs and entered the basement/dungeon of Castle Wyvern.

Ellie felt herself being set on the ground, then the bonds coming loose. She pulled the blindfold off and glanced around. There were mostly stacked crates and inactive Steel Clan robots. Bart was blocking what appeared to be the closest door. "The archetypal abandoned warehouse? How cliché."

Percy set down the folding chair he had carried with him. "Welcome to your final resting place."

TBC


End file.
